


Exam Stress and Wet Nights

by StOrY1



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Accidental wetting, Bed-Wetting, Character is a university student, Gen, Humiliation, Omorashi, Reader Insert, Second Person, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29360097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StOrY1/pseuds/StOrY1
Summary: Pulling a double all-nighter during exam week has some unfortunate consequences once you finally find time to sleep.
Kudos: 9





	Exam Stress and Wet Nights

“Heeeey! (Y/N)! Is that it? Did you finish your last test?” Your roommate offers you a grin and a double thumbs up as you plod exhaustedly into the room. You ignore her, flopping face down on the bed with a groan of exhaustion. After one week you’ll graduate from college. Right now, having pulled two consecutive all nighters to finish up your senior thesis and study for your physics final, the only thing you want is to sleep. 

Your roommate crouches at the end of your bed, shaking you playfully by the shoulder. “Come on,” she says. “You can’t pass out without a celebratory drink.”

“Watch me,” you mutter, but you know it’s no use. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and pushing your hair (greasy from a week of being too busy to shower) out of your face. You’ve never been awake for this long before. Robotically, you take the beer that your roommate thrusts into your hand. You down it in three huge gulps, hoping that’ll make her go away. 

Instead, she hands you another beer. 

“How was the physics final anyway?”

“I swear to god, I think I was hallucinating,” you complain. Actually, you still feel that way now. The beer in your hand is dream-like. It’s more like something that is happening to you rather than something you’re actively doing. It’s like, the mouth that is opening is yours and the throat the beer is going down is yours, but what do _you_ really have to do with that in the grand scheme of things. 

“I’m sure you aced it like you did everything else,” your roommate says. “Seriously, in the last four years I haven’t seen you screw up anything.”

You shrug. “I guess I screw up as much as anybody else,” you say, swallowing back a burp. 

“Like fuck you do. Have another beer.”

The third beer is the charm that gets your roommate to leave you alone. You curl up in bed, not bothering to take off your shoes. You’re just so tired! All you want to do is sleep, yet it’s hard for reasons your exhaustion numbed brain can’t figure out. You shift back and forth in bed, aware of a growing pressure and discomfort in your lower belly. It’s almost an urgency, but you’re way too sleepy to feel urgent about anything. 

Somehow you drift off, only to be awakened a short time later by a pang in your bladder. _What?_ you think groggily. Then: _Oh, never mind_. The discomfort resolves itself. Your dorm room is usually chilly, but you grow warm. The comfy warmth starts at your crotch, and seeps down your thighs and up your back. You’re awake enough to know that this will be a problem, but not awake enough to care. You were a bed wetter late into your teens, but now you’re twenty-four, and disbelieving that your body is betraying you like this. 

Oh well, it feels nice to relax and let your body do what it wants, especially after fighting it to stay awake as long as you did. This is probably just a stupid dream. No way you’re really wetting the bed as a college senior.

As though from far away, you overhear your roommate and somebody else giggling. Whatever. You fall fully back asleep before you finish peeing. 

Even a soaking wet bed isn’t enough to keep you from sleeping like a rock for the next six hours. When you open your eyes, the light is off and somebody has laid a blanket over you and your wet jeans. You shiver. Your head hurts. Your priority should be to clean yourself up, but all you really want is to be warm so you can sleep. You sigh in discontent, and take the laziest way out— you deliberately wet yourself again. It’s not like things can get worse, and at least now you’re warm enough to go back to sleep. You’ll face the consequences tomorrow. 

Said consequences come in the form of a drenched mattress, skin that is sticky with piss, and a roommate who smirks at you as you sit up and survey the considerable damage you did to yourself during the night. 

“I take back what I said about you never screwing up,” your roommate says, not unkindly. 

You hide your face in your hands, unable to meet her eyes. Your face is hot with embarrassment, though the rest of you is cold with last night’s stale urine.

“Was... was anybody else here?” you ask, thinking back to the laughter that you either heard or dreamt you heard. 

“A few people,” your roommate admits. “But don’t worry about it. Nobody hates you or anything. Honestly, I think we were kind of relieved.”

“Relieved?” you ask. 

“Yeah. You’re like our resident super-human, with your grades and everything. Now that we’ve seen you wet the bed, we know you’re just a normal person who makes mistakes like the rest of us.”

You’re not sure what to think of that. All you know is that, as you stand up to take your walk of shame to the bathroom to clean up, you feel humbled, stupid, and small. Your drenched jeans cling to your skin, and you decide never to screw with your sleep schedule so badly again. One accident you can live down, but it’s not something you want to make a habit out of. 

Or is it? 

It _had_ felt nice to stop struggling and just let things happen for once.


End file.
